“That’s ok,” Diego interrupted her. “Thanks.”
“What was that? I thought we were trying to find a phone,” Liliana said when they were back outside.
“Look at us. We can’t bring any more attention to ourselves. I’ll come back first thing in the morning.”
Their room was the last one at the end of a flight of outdoor stairs. A low tree branch hung over the balcony, littering the path with dead leaves and the brass numbers on their door were missing, their faint impression all that was left to identify it. Diego tossed the door open and flipped on the light—a cluster of moths fluttering to the glowing bulbs. Diego pulled the door closed behind him, bolted the lock, fastened the chain, and pulled a chair under the doorknob.
Liliana went straight to the bathroom. The mud in her hair and on her clothes and skin had dried and it cracked off in crumbling shards every time she took a step. A metal sink jutted out from the wall with all of the pipes rusted and exposed. The tub to her right was small and there was a faint brown ring around the silver drain. She turned the knob and waited. At first the water just trickled out, followed by a few gurgling gushes before it finally flowed out in an even stream. Liliana held a finger under the spout and watched as the warming water turned her skin red. When her finger started to throb she switched on the shower and stepped, fully clothed, under the veil of steam.
The hot water melted the mud from every surface of her body and it fell apart in clumps. She used her toes to push the swirling dirt down into the drain as she stood directly under the showerhead, running her fingers through her hair. She stood there until the water ran clear again and then she slid to the bottom of the tub, hitting the hard porcelain and sending a shock through her knees and up through her spine. She shivered under the water, still hot as it lapped against her skin and then she brought her hands to her face before folding into herself in the corner of the tub.
Chapter 39
Diego
Diego was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, quiet, listening. Liliana had been in the shower for almost an hour and Diego had yet to hear her make a noise. But then, between the sounds of the water slapping against the bottom of the tub he could hear something soft and muffled, a hollow panting he’d recognized in her restless sleep that night he’d pulled her from the ocean. His palm lingered over the doorknob, the door unlocked and slightly ajar. But then he stopped himself and knocked, waiting for her voice to slip out into the hall. He heard a faint inhale but she didn’t tell him to come in and so he knocked again, waiting just half a moment before stepping inside.
Liliana was bent in the corner of the tub, head down as the water swirled in a muddy torrent around her waist. Diego didn’t hesitate. He slipped off his boots and climbed in next to her, wrapping his arms around her and placing his body between her and the water. Liliana looked up, hands moving toward his face as she began scraping the mud off of his cheeks and peeling it off in layers from the surface of his clothes. Then she leaned his head back into the stream of water, letting it slip across his skin and down his neck as she combed the mud from his hair.
Her fingers trailed along the collar of his shirt, before crawling to the buttons still caked in mud and she opened them one by one before tossing his shirt onto the bathroom floor. Then she leaned her face against his chest, cool against her cheeks and let her lips spread apart across his skin. Diego pressed his mouth into the curve of her neck, kissing her until the hairs on her body stood on end. Her fingers slipped to the metal button of his jeans and plucked it open, thumbnail grazing his skin as she pulled on the fabric, fighting it as it as it adhered itself to his legs. Finally, he yanked them off, tumbling onto his back, and into Liliana’s lap. A smile broke through the fear painted across her face and it drew his lips to hers. He bit into her bottom lip, kneading the supple skin gently between his teeth as Liliana gripped the sides of his face and pulled him onto his knees.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you,” Diego answered and then he pulled the neck of Liliana’s blouse down over her shoulder and gently bit into her soft skin.
She tugged at the sleeve, slipping it down over her chest until it was floating around her waist and then she pulled him to her, anchoring herself by placing the heel of her foot into the open drain. The water rose around them and Diego watched as Liliana’s hair floated around her face, twisting like flames. He slipped his fingers into the floating ringlets and gripped her scalp. She closed her eyes and slipped her legs around his waist. And as the rising water began slipping into the creases of her lips, Diego pulled her to him, kissing her—drinking from her as if she were the last spring on earth.
Chapter 40
Liliana
Liliana woke with her face pressed into the crook of Diego’s arm, lips parted against his skin as the sun was just beginning to shine red through the curtain, her clothes still damp. She wondered how long she’d been asleep and though she knew they needed to leave soon, she didn’t want to move. She wanted them to stay as they were, tucked into each other, safe. She glanced up at Diego
“What now?” she whispered to him.
“We have to get back to Buenos Aires.”
“But we have to call my father.”
“Ok,” he said trying to calm her, “we will. But we can’t stay here. It’s just not safe.”
Diego walked over to the window, peering through the curtain at the parking lot down below.
“Shit.”
“What is it?”
Liliana jumped down from the bed and joined Diego by the window. That’s when she saw it. The F shaped crack.
“We have to go. Now.”
Diego opened the door and they slipped around the corner just as the men were coming up the landing. But there were no other stairs, only railing and they could hear something like glass shattering as the men searched their room.
“Come on.”
Diego crawled onto the edge of the railing and reached for the tree that was falling against the motel roof. Liliana grabbed hold of his arm, foot poised over the edge of the railing, but then she slipped, coming down on her hip. Diego caught her, balancing her against his chest as he led them both down into the empty parking lot. Liliana started for the back of the motel but Diego pulled her towards the front.
“They’ll see us,” she said.
“Shh.”
He grabbed her by the wrist and they ran for the truck, exhaust billowing near the tires. Diego threw the driver’s side door open and they both slid in before he put it in drive and slammed on the gas. The group of men came around the corner and Diego passed so close to them that they were able to bang their fists against Liliana’s window. She fell into the floor of the truck and then there was gunfire as they peeled onto the highway, Diego slumped so low against his seat that Liliana didn’t know how he could even see the road in front of them. She felt the truck veer along the ditch, the tires wavering over the loose gravel and then they crawled back onto the pavement. Liliana’s eyes, struggling to make out shapes through the cracks riddling the back windshield, finally caught sight of the men jumping into the motel’s maintenance van.
“They’re coming,” she said, watching them as they tore out onto the road.
Liliana could feel the fear rising up through her chest, the burning panic grating across her throat and settling like bile at the back of her tongue. They could try to outrun them. But regardless of the distance they placed between them, they had guns that could cover that and more in less than a second, less time than they would have to blink or even breathe.
“Get down,” Diego yelled, his arm pushing Liliana into the floorboard.
She held her ears as metal ripped through the seats, a few hot pieces of lead rolling against her knees. She heard something strained and bubbled slip through Diego’s lips and then she saw his hand clutching at his side, red slipping through his trembling fingers.
“Grab the…” The words fell stilted from his lips.
“What?”
Liliana crawled onto her knees and that’s when she saw the line, trickling black down his forearm from beneath the tatters of his sleeve. She reached for the hole, for the raw entry where the flesh had been ripped from the bone.
“Grab the wheel,” he huffed, louder this time.
Her fingers, covered in his blood, slipped on the plastic skin of the wheel and then it was too late. They were twisting off the road, the tires catching on the ditch hollowed out by the recent rain and they barreled into the ground, the tail end of the truck, wheels still turning, suspended in the air. Liliana felt something warm trickle into her eyes and her fingers searched her scalp for the wound. She winced, plucking tiny flakes of glass from the cut as she tried to open her eyes. She saw Diego, lips taught as he tried to wedge himself free from behind the steering wheel. She smelled the dust as the van’s tires sent it swirling into the cab. She heard the door crack open, the sharp cock of the gun and then all she could do was crawl into the crook of Diego’s arm, her face pressed to his mouth as she waited for them to take her.
Chapter 41
Diego
A harsh voice sifted in, slow like sand, the words muffled. He could smell their proximity before he heard a single word they’d said, Faro cigarettes and coffee. When he finally opened his eyes, the light played against his face in blinding shards, cutting them into pieces that his mind couldn’t reassemble.
“Shit, kid.”
The man disappeared from the window, leaving the sun to assault Diego completely uninhibited while he tried to move his legs. He inhaled and a pain ripped through him, starting in his ribs and scaling the rest of his body until he was frozen, unwilling to make another move.
The familiar face reappeared in the window, the motel manager’s voice preceding it, but Diego couldn’t see anything but red, but the pain. He glanced down at his legs, examining the foot space and he noticed a thin, dark strand of Liliana’s hair fluttering against the leg of his jeans.
“Get me out.” Diego’s voice was hoarse, though he didn’t remember screaming. He spit at the man again, eyes narrowed. “Hurry. Please.”
“Whoa. Hold on. An ambulance is coming. I sent someone back to the motel to call for one.”
“That will take too long.” He drew himself up on his hands, his left arm slipping, and sending his shoulder into the side of the car. He cried out, legs writhing as the pain shot through him.
“Don’t try and move.”
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Did you see them take her?”
“They took off with my van before…”
“I don’t give a fuck about your van.”
Diego wedged his left arm against the steering wheel and brought his left knee into his chest. He braced himself there, catching his breath, and then he sat up, straightening his back as he pulled his other leg free. He knocked loose the glass teeth that were now the base of the window and hurled himself forward, screaming as his stomach grated over the side of the car. He felt his pant leg thickening with blood as it trickled from his hip to his ankle and down into his shoe. The man stepped back, giving him room, his hands hovering awkwardly between them, unsure if he should help him out of the car.
Diego’s face landed first, flat against the dirt and then he pulled himself forward with just his left arm, legs dragging behind him. He rolled onto his back, his eyes closed, chest tight, and tried to breathe. But the more he tried to fill his lungs with air, the more the darkness tugged at him, until finally he was swaddled in it and there was no more pain.
Chapter 42
Liliana
Liliana sat cross-legged on a bare mattress. She buried her face in her lap and held her hands over her ears. Even though she wouldn’t allow herself to hear, her body was still absorbing the sounds coming from the cells next to hers. When they had pulled up to the jail, Liliana strangely felt an ounce worth of relief. She was terrified of being somewhere secluded and far away, somewhere no one could find her. At least here she could sense the other people around her; she could hear, see, and even smell them. Despite her surroundings everything was surprisingly alive, including her. She was alive.
The metal door, a scrap patchwork riddled with tiny holes, resonated with the heavy sound of footsteps, of doors to other cells sliding closed. When a soft dew began to linger along the cement walls, an invisible draft wafting around her ankles, she knew night had fallen. She pinched the soft flesh above her knee, numbed from being tucked beneath her, and tried to count the hours that she had been sitting there? Twelve hours maybe, almost an entire day? No, more like two—the chill settling against her for the second time since she’d been there. Her body was much more in tune with the time that had passed, her limbs growing wearier from the heat, her thirst, with every passing second.
She was so thirsty. The last time she’d had something to drink was at the motel two nights before, but sleep and terror had drained her of every last drop. Her mouth felt stiff, her throat narrow as she realized the need for water would only grow more ravenous and debilitating the longer she stayed trapped in that cell. But as she watched the door, willing her eyes not to flutter closed, she realized that the thirst, the immediate threat of dehydration wasn’t the only thing that could happen to her there. Soon she wouldn’t just be a prisoner of some strange men who had hunted her down like some fleeting game, but soon she would be a prisoner in her own body, every limb recoiling from use as it became more exhausted and more afraid.
And Diego. Liliana untwisted her fingers from beneath the fabric of her shirt. The cotton had absorbed some of the muddy pink residue but the rest was still on her hands, staining her wrists, a few drops having dried near her elbow. The smell of his blood rose from her moist palms and she clamped her jaw shut, a gag trying to wrench up the back of her throat. Her nails bit into the soft skin as she coiled them into fists, the trembling traveling through her hands, up her arms and down her back.
She rolled forward onto her knees, afraid she was about to get sick again. But instead her lungs began to spasm, fresh air unable to reach them as she tried to breathe. What if he was dead? What if he was dead just like her mother, just like Ben? When the doors of the van closed behind her, she hadn’t heard anything but the start of the engine, or the tires peeling away. As soon as they pulled her free from the truck, their guns had laid dormant. But what happened after they threw her into the back of the truck? If they didn’t shoot him…if they didn’t kill him, did they just leave him there?
A soft knocking slipped in beneath the door like someone walking down a flight of stairs, quick, short strides—too quick to be just one set of feet.
“We’ve got to move this one,” a voice said.
“Just past the checkpoint in Santa Fe, there should be a buyer waiting.”
“Why so soon?”
“She’s got people looking for her.”
“What kind of people?”
“Important people. Expats with military connections.”
“Fuck man. What happened to only trading for prostitutes and junkies?”
“It was a personal favor.”
“Yeah, personal until her daddy finds a reformed general to hang your ass out to dry. Why haven’t you just killed the bitch?” He slammed his fist against the metal door and Liliana jumped.
“Can’t.” He raised his voice. “You hear that bitch? Unfortunately for you, I can only kill you as a last resort.”
His voice swelled within the narrow cell walls, every inflection and every syllable snaking around her and through her until she couldn’t breathe.
Chapter 43
Diego
It was the harsh cramp in his lungs, bones splintering with every breath, that drew him from sleep—not the morphine burning in his veins, or the bandages pressed tight to his skin, or even Manuel’s hand, fingers curled around his wrist. But when he opened his eyes, every tactile adversary seemed to assault him at once—a fervent burning starting deep
in the balls of his feet and raging through him. Manuel’s shadow spilled across the bed and Diego blinked, trying to speak.
“Where is she?” Manuel said.
Diego tried to pull himself up, eyes frantic on the door as he fought to move.
“They took her,” he breathed. “We have to go.”
“Don’t,” Manuel stopped him. “Who took her?”
Diego felt the words sharp on his dry lips and said, “Your brother.”
Chapter 44
Liliana
The door to her cell slid open and a large man ripped her from the mattress. He dragged her down the hall, through the building, and out of an unmarked back door where a truck was waiting. It looked just like the moving trucks that had pulled up to the vineyard on their first day in Argentina. It was a moving truck. But instead of moving boxes it would be moving her.
She fell to the ground, making herself dead weight as the man tried to pull her up the ramp. She screamed and clawed at the ground, trying to get a grip on something, anything that would let her hold on, to this place, to this life. She didn’t want to die, but what really stirred her limbs to fight back was knowing that death wasn’t even the worst thing that could happen to her.
The man pulled her up by the hair and the pain ripped through her entire body. She was hurled into the back of the truck and the doors slammed shut. She crawled to the steel door, hammering her fists against it until they were numb and screaming until the words cut past her throat in thick dry shards. She slumped against the floor, fists mute against the door and she started to cry.
She looked around the truck and began filling in the darkness with images of moist eyes peering out from within wooden crates. She saw her mother in the corner, rocking on her knees and she crawled over to her, following the scent of her skin. Liliana lay on the floor and absorbed the vibrations of the truck, imagining her head resting in her mother’s lap. It was the heat, or maybe the thirst, the fear or the hunger, but something instinctual, primordial was feeding her dreams, painting before her visions of her mother, warm and tactile.
The Things They Didn't Bury Page 21